Sole and Born Creation
by destiny's-dawn666
Summary: For his wronged brother, the Horseman Death would face the wrath of the entire Universe, even if it meant also facing regrets of a path he followed long ago. What he didn't expect to find on such a mission was Eleyna, a brave young woman of incredible gifts seeking the truths of her unknown past- even if her path must entwine with the eldest and most fearsome of the Four. DeathxOC
1. Prologue: The Keeper of Secrets

**Hello, readers. As promised when I finished my story 'A Caged Bird's Faith', which followed the events of 'Darksiders', I present you with the prologue of 'Sole and Born Creation', which will follow 'Darksiders II'. I will admit I had a bit of trouble with this story as compared to its sister piece, mainly because the story in 'Darksiders II' is not nearly as linear as it is in the first. Either way, as with the first, I hope you enjoy reading this piece as much as I have enjoyed writing it. ^^ **

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own any of the Darksiders universe. It belongs to the original creators and developers of the games.**

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><p>Prologue: The Keeper of Secrets<p>

How odd, it was noted, that not one of the Old One's dear children- his sentries and information gatherers- blotted out the grey sky and white covered mountains in the distance with ebony feathers and the like. It was possible, however, that many had, to use an old joke, flown the coop when the old man lost what was left of his memory. Perhaps that was when the world began to decay. No, the only thing that stirred in the air was the wind, cold and unforgiving.

Eyes of an almost glowing fiery- orange peered away from the fallen mass of bone and ice, which had just been dealt with, toward a mass of molting black feathers descending in a wide arc towards him. Death, the eldest and most feared of the Four Horsemen, waited until the creature was at his level. Although the cold did not disturb him in the slightest, he had grown tired of jumping through hoops to gain the answers he sought. Still, he could hear the nasally, rasping whispers of the Veil's master, the Keeper of Secrets, echoing through the emptiness. He had even seen the Crowfather once, although the old one had disappeared and left the murders of his children to fly about the Horseman in the hopes of startling him.

The bird now approaching Death had been sent in as a sentry, even though it gravely wished not to deal with the winds which made flying an endless chore. Still, it carried out its appointed task with a miserable squawk and now came back to report, perching himself on Death's broad, grey shoulder.  
>"Well, Dust?" Death asked, his voice gravelly and serious. The bird let out a whimpering 'caw', lowering its head under its wing almost in regret. Death sighed, shaking his head slowly. For a moment the only other visible sign of movement on his face was the closing of his eyes. His face looked almost hollow due to the blackness of the eyelids and lack of any other visible facial feature thanks to the old mask- which had become like a second skin now, it had been on for so long. "Of course not. Why should he care whether or not he makes things difficult for me." With a roll of his shoulder that just barely moved his long, greasy obsidian hair, he dismissed Dust to scout ahead. He then fixed his gaze- then his path- on the doorway that had opened as crystal moved aside for him-an odd welcoming indeed.<p>

As he approached a gap in the floor, he veered left, clenching his long, bony fingers until they almost resembled hooks. He took a running leap toward the wall and ran along it quickly, maintaining his altitude and slowing his fall as his fingers grated through the stone of the wall. When the stone was interrupted by a reprieve he found in the form of the remains of a wall post, he reached for it with the other hand and pushed himself up and over it, gaining the momentum he needed to keep running along the side of the wall until he reached the far ledge and entered into an open area. Taking note of Dust's position, as the bird had taken to a perch just over a strange lever. Looking around, Death determined that what he had mistaken for a room was actually an elevator.

With that said, he pushed the lever inward, startling the bird as the elevator jerked to life and began to rise.

He was made aware just how fallen to ruin the Veil was as the rumbling from the movement created by the elevator caused rubble to fall on it, setting Death slightly on edge. At the rate things were going, this place would be lucky if it were still standing in another hour or so. As the elevator came to a stop after having rubble pile onto it, he disembarked it in favor of another ledge he saw, a ledge that led upward as he took to climbing and leaping between two walls. After pulling himself up, he was met with another wall to traverse, again leaping over a wall post and gripping onto a wall that had some sort of strange vine growing up the height of the wall. As Death ascended, leaping over another wall post and clinging to the vines, he looked up as a voice filled his ears over the whistling of the wind.

"Leave this place!" cried the Crowfather in seeming outrage. No sooner had he said that and disappeared, the ledge that had been above him fell, crashing into where the Old One had just stood. Large chunks of earth barely missed the Horseman. Death allowed himself a small glare.

"The old man will be lucky if I let him get away with a broken hand at this rate." he murmured as he moved to the right. Dashing to an exposed beam, he climbed it rapidly, his fingers nearly digging in like claws against the splintered wood. With his powerful legs, he managed to jump between the gaps and leapt for another vertical beam. After following it up further still and running across the wall, he found more of the frozen skeletal warriors awaiting him. As they broke free from their crystal prisons, Death drew his twin scythes- halves that made up the whole death scythe known to most as a harbinger of doom. With one in each hand, he lunged, dealing a swipe that guaranteed to cut even through bone. Another came up behind him and raised his sword to strike when he leapt away. Back on his feet, Death slashed again, this time moving upwards and digging both scythes into the chest of one of the skeletons and leaping over it, breaking it apart as he pulled it back. The other went almost the same way, except Death pulled it apart by sticking the blades of both scythes in pointing away from each other. With that, he pulled himself forward, scattering the bones around him.

When nothing else stirred, Death was left to follow the cave until he came to a wall covered in vines- conveniently enough for him. Carefully, he descended and made his way around from underneath, traversing along an exposed ledge. A trio of splintered wall beams granted him access to the wall of the shaft-like room. He climbed it and then traversed over to another vertical beam, again jumping up to the upper split half and then leaping to the next beam, followed by a third. From that third beam, he leapt toward another horizontal beam, swinging himself up onto it effortlessly. With an agile flip, he crossed the gap, landing with a crouch on the other side and then pulling himself up the wall.

The hall he was met with next was brief and led into a large, open area. Higher on the wall before him, there spun many great dials marked with ancient runes befitting of one of the Crowfather's status, aligning with the silvery sun and casting great shadows on the floor. The mentioned Old One sat at his throne beneath the dials, cradling his head in his hands. As Death sauntered forward to meet with the mentioned being, Dust flew towards his former master happily, but that did not concern the Horseman. The bird was bound to him and would leave when its new master did.

No, what troubled the Horseman was the murmurings of the Old One, who had begun shaking his head side to side, his eyes clenched shut. As he neared, he took in the appearance of the Elder as well. The strain had certainly taken its toll on the Crowfather's aging- not that many things didn't. As far as the Universe knew, the Crowfather was a hermit who took to the company of his precious children over others. Death had known this for some time, which is why it made sense that he had tasked the Old One with such a feat. The amulet chained around his wrinkled neck glowed an eerie green, not that Death was surprised. "Voices..." the Crowfather murmured, "always voices... torment without end."

Realizing he hadn't been noticed yet, Death stepped forward. "Keeper of Secrets," he addressed briskly, trying to keep the tone light. The Crowfather's wrinkled face rose, taking in the sight of the Horseman. "I need your help." The mentioned Elder glared at the Nephilim and then raised his hand to point a bony finger in accusation.

"I helped you once before, Horseman." he snarled, his voice now nothing more than sick rasps. "Look at me now. How I curse that day. How I curse you."

"Careful, Crowfather." Death replied, raising a hand as if to emphasize his warning. "I'm not here to put you out of your misery. Not yet."

"I know why you have come." the mentioned party snapped as he stepped off of his throne. "Your brother, the one called War. He's been imprisoned by the Charred Council and awaits their judgment. For dooming the Earth. For mankind's extinction. Why should I care about your brother's fate?" With that, he turned away from the eldest Horseman.

"Because you know the truth." Death replied. "Your secrets can save him."

The Crowfather laughed. "The Council will condemn War." he countered as he turned around, watching as Death stepped forward. "Strip him of power, let him rot in oblivion... to hide the truth! My secrets cannot prove his innocence, Horseman." Death shook his head.

"No..." he agreed, "but they can help me to erase the crime." At this, the Crowfather's thin, white brow raised.

"Bring Mankind back from extinction? Madness!" he scoffed.

"If it's madness," Death countered, a laugh in his voice at the cruel irony, "then who better to show me the way?"

The Old One raised his hand and with a flash and winding of purple magic, a portal was opened. "Should a way exist..." he began, "You will find it here." Death took in the image shown to him- that of a gargantuan tree that had winding roots and full branches. Looking at this tree filled Death with an unfamiliar feeling. He knew that tree anywhere.

"The Tree of Life..." he murmured. With his path determined, he stepped forward, but the Crowfather had other plans, for at that moment, he closed his hand into a tight fist and closed the portal. "Let me pass." he demanded.

"Not yet! That which you gave to me..." the Old One began as he grabbed the chain of the glowing amulet and held it out to Death. "You will take it back." The Horseman's eyes narrowed. Now it was his turn to point an accusing finger at the Crowfather.

"In exchange for its secrets, you agreed to keep the Amulet." he reminded.

"No..." the Old One replied holding a hand to his pained head. "The voices, they curse and threaten without end. They cry to return!" Again he held the Amulet out to Death, shaking it this time with frustration. "You must destroy it." Death lowered his head slowly as the guilt rose up through him almost like bile.

"I... cannot." he murmured.

"You annihilated their flesh, why do you guard their souls?" At this point, Death had grown tired of the conversation and the questioning. There was a distinct reason no one questioned him- two actually, and he pulled them from their place at his hips and crossed the handles in front of him, awaiting a fight.

"Open the portal." he demanded. The Crowfather shook his head.

"You will not pass while I live."

"So be it." snarled Death as he pulled his blades back to his sides, ready to take the first offensive maneuver. The Crowfather, however, was ready for him and unleashed a powerful spell that knocked Death back across the room. The Nephilim was able to recover as he dug his blades into the ground as a sort of makeshift brake. He glared venomously up at one whom he had at one time considered an ally.

"Here your brethren are trapped in eternal torment." the Crowfather remarked as he again held up the Amulet and began floating off the ground. "Do you wish to join them? And what of War? Will you kill your brother to save your precious balance?"

"He is innocent." Death urged vehemently.

"Are you so certain?" With that, the Old One burst into a blast of blackish magic and fleeing crows and then disappeared. At this point, he put himself in survival mode almost instantaneously, staying completely alert- pausing only as he heard heavy, almost metallic footsteps approach. For a moment he closed his eyes and then turned back. As he had hoped it would not have come to be, there stood War- or a shadowed impression of him at least. He felt his jaw set in his anger and although part of him did not want to fight War- imitation or not-, another part knew it was an imposter and therefore needed to be dealt with in the harshest way imaginable. That is why he met the challenge, crossing the scythe blades as the false War pulled a shadow of the infamous blade Chaoseater from his shoulder.

Before either of them breathed they lunged for each other, the false War taken to the offense immediately. Death dodged, giving this foe a wide berth for only a moment, and that was so that he could put the twin scythes together as one and then rushed at his opponent. The false War, however, anticipated Death's next move as the elder Horseman began to swing and blocked with the immense gauntlet that replaced his left arm. Death knew what would happen next and jumped back with a flip as the false War plunged the shadowy copy of Chaoseater into the ground and summoned up large copies of the angry blade around himself. The elder moved safely away just in time and then leapt backward as the shadow of War moved once again, bringing the shadowy mockery of Chaoseater down.

Taking advantage of his opponent's guard being let down, Death lunged back in, hacking away at the dark armor. He leapt back and out of the way when the shadow attempted to strike with a powerful swipe that launched an arc of angry energy. Death ran towards him, but the false War was ready and slashed across Death's chest. A move that should have at least staggered, however, did not even seem to faze the Horseman. Discouraged by this, the false War attempted to strike again, which Death parried and then leapt back from the second attack.

As the enemy made for a third strike, he again formed the giant scythe together from the two halves so as he could block the attack. The two were left at a complete standstill, with War attempting to force Death down with all of his strength. Death's glare deepened.

"You forget..." he grunted as he used all of his strength to push back the shadowy phantasm of his brother. Letting go of the hold, he twisted and with a swing of his scythe delivered a blow that knocked the shadow airborne. "Even if War _is _my brother," he began before he leapt up and dealt to the shadow another serious blow that knocked it further into the air and then watched as it crashed down into the floor below, "I will not hesitate if I have to remind him of his place. You are no different."

The shadow slowly rose, and obliging Death's motion for it to come at him seriously, it lunged. It movements were more brutal, he noted as he alternated between dodging its vicious attacks and parrying them. Their deadly dance continued until the shadow grew impatient and thus sloppy. Death met one attack- two attacks- three attacks head on, with Death fending off an overhead blow from above with the long shaft of the giant scythe.

Deliberating his movements, Death moved, again breaking the giant scythe into the two smaller ones. As the shadow lurched forward, Death leaped, tumbling over it. The shadow caught another swing from the scythe and swung. With great acrobatic skill, the elder Horseman took a great leap and landed but a few feet away. Deliberating that the best way to deal with this would be to take the head-on approach, he moved forward swiftly, swinging the scythe so that he was ready to attack at the precisely right moment. Taking it as a challenge, the shadow also charged forward, matching Death's pace.

They met in the middle and while Death had prepared himself for pain, the sword had missed its target. Still, it was too late for the shadow- as the blade dug through its abdomen- and he quickly finished the job with a harsh twist and jerk of the blade. Turning, Death pulled the blade harshly from the shadow, which fell to the floor. Crows dispersed from its position on the floor. In the wake of the magic left behind, the Crowfather emerged from the shadow's visage. As Death turned to him and began to creep forward, the Old One recovered just enough to turn over and attempt to crawl away. The Horseman, however, was now in a less than forgiving mood. The Crowfather discovered this as he felt the unimaginable pain of the curved blade through his abdomen.

Death ignored the Old One's cries of agony and tugged the scythe so that its unfortunate victim was suspended from the large, serrated blade as he stuck it in the ground. The old one struggled, retching as his dark blood escaped from his open lips. Death still was not merciful as he captured the Crowfather's face in his bony, filthy hand. He wanted to perfectly relay his demands to the Old One, and by Creator, he _would _be heard.

"Open up the portal." he demanded, ignoring the ancient one's desperate attempts to claw his hand away. Tightening his grip, he pulled the Crowfather from the blade and then threw the old man across the room, to the foot of the stairs. There was of heavy _clink _of the amulet- which had become loose from such rough handling- hitting the floor, casting the Pale Rider in an eerie shade of green. "Your secrets die with you..." he said as he lowered the twin scythes, "... old fool."

The Crowfather, barely alive, began to murmur. "My secrets... but not yours..." With one last burst of magic, he caused glass of the amulet to suddenly crack. It jerked, and then, in a flash of green light, it burst. Before Death knew what was happening, the shards began to take a life of their own- suspended in midair- and before he could react, they shot right into his right shoulder. The pain was excruciating, but the angry chorus of voices that flooded into his mind were far worse- the voices of men and women, all demanding blood- all demanding violent revenge. Death was rendered by such a force and at one point attempted to claw the shards from where they had embedded themselves before the pain became too much for him. As the pain he now felt brought him to the floor, where he was forced to submit to the depths of unconsciousness, the Crowfather held up his end of the bargain. As the Old One's body dissipated into only a murder of crows, a great black portal of swirling black and violet energy opened, swallowing Death into its dark depths.

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><p><strong>I'm sorry that there was no sign of my OC Eleyna in this chapter. This prologue was mainly for me to get a good grasp on Death's character- which is far more trickier than War in my opinion (especially as far as the fight scenes go)- but still all the more fun to try. Plus, I wanted her to be fully introduced in one good chapter- which luckily enough will be the next one. ^^ I hope you have enjoyed this chapter and I'll have the next one up shortly here.<strong>


	2. Chapter One: The Sprite in the Wood

**Ugh... I am very, _very _sorry to those whom I kept waiting for this newest chapter. My schedule for work was insane and all of my free time went into painting and moving into my new bedroom. Thankfully, I finally made some time to sit down and start typing again. I'm looking forward to the outcome of this story, and I hope everyone else is, too. I must tell everyone, though, as I wasn't sure if I specified this in the author's notes for my last chapter that this story might be a little different. I found that in Darksiders II, the story is not as linear as that of the first and is quite flexible. As such, I am taking certain liberties with this story (mainly the environment). The story will still take Death where he has to go, just a little bit more involved than with the game. That being said, I do hope that you all enjoy this story. ^^**

**Also in this chapter, I happily present to you our OC for this story, the beautiful and ever brave and feisty Eleyna.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of either Darksiders or Darksiders II. Both the games and their contents belong to the games' original creators and developers.**

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><p>Chapter One: The Sprite in the Wood<p>

_'There is a stranger here.' _whispered the forest all around.

Her pale brow furrowed in concentration. Talking to her did not make this process easier- not in the least. With a heavy exhalation, she continued her work. To her satisfaction, the bark on this particular birch no longer appeared to be sickly. Unfortunately, this problem was more than bark-deep. If there were a way to solve it, it would be at the roots, but she couldn't take out Corruption without killing the tree with it.

Many would call this a lost cause- an impasse. Eleyna had long ago called it a challenge; but even she was beginning to notice a lost cause when she saw one. Wiping tendrils of copper-colored hair from her sweaty brow, she stood back and gazed up at the tree.

Many would find the quiet eerie after realizing that all of the animals had left in fear of the spreading force Corruption had become. Eleyna, however, was never alone...

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><p>Death came to as he felt the presence of another near him. Opening his eyes, he was met with the sight of a large frame, squinty eyes and full white, ornately braided beard. A Maker...<p>

"Be still, Horseman." the old Maker ordered with a wise, thunderous voice. He reached for the shards embedded into the mentioned being's shoulder. "You are wounded." Although the Old One was trying to help, he found neither warm reception from the amulet shards- which sparked with an evil burst of green energy as his finger neared them- nor from the Horseman, who picked himself up rapidly and moved away.

"Don't touch me!" Death growled. If the Maker Elder was affronted by such behavior, he did not show it. Instead, he turned away from the Horseman, toward the solitary idol of the hollow in which the Nephilim had awoken.

"Your arrival here is a bad omen." he murmured gravely. He stroked his long beard- no doubt a nervous habit. "Yes... troubles me greatly."

"Old One-" Death addressed impatiently, "there's more trouble ahead if you don't start making sense. Where is the Tree of Life?" The Elder paused and turned back to him.

"Life?" he echoed with no small amount of incredulity, before he let loose a low, morose laugh. "This world is dying, lad. Choking on chaos and Corruption. We can do little to stop it." He looked off to the side almost sadly. "Soon, the great tree too shall perish and, with it, the last of my people. Is that not what brought you here, Pale Rider?"

"I seek the Tree." Death answered simply. "Your 'chaos and corruption' don't concern me." No sooner had he said those words, a black essence sprang from the ground, weaving amongst stone as a construct was made, and then another, and all of them raced at Death. Meeting the challenge, he ran at them, with scythes at the ready.

The Elder watched as the Horseman struck and then weaved amongst the constructs, rather impressed that such blows could carry through stone. "It seems they do concern you." he corrected under his breath.

Death eyed the strange bludgeoning weapon that one of the constructs was carrying- a cylinder of stone attached to a smaller handle. After he disposed of its wielder, he picked it up. It was heavy, yet it seemed all the more effective, especially when he tested it against another construct. The resulting crash of rock against rock left Death feeling very satisfied with his little experiment.

As the dust settled from Death's tangle with the constructs, he gazed back at the Elder. "You fight well." the Old One noted. "But this Corruption can't be beaten with a blade. Seek out the Forge Sister. Ask her about the Fire of the Mountain. Help her, and she will help you reach the Tree. As for me," he stated as he began to walk off, "I must return to my work."

"And who are you to command a Rider?" Death asked. He was slightly remiss as to why he was being put to do this when all he really had to do was walk to the Tree and be on his way.

"I am a Maker." the Elder answered firmly. "Older than even the Charred Council. These hands have laid the foundations for many worlds. But that was long ago. And now, they but hardly know the touch of stone."

Death paused in deliberation. "Are you not curious as to _why _I seek the tree?"

"I would not presume to question one of the Four... but yes, tell me." At this, Death was mildly surprised, but to show it would be entirely uncharacteristic of him.

"I must restore Humanity- to redeem War." he answered.

"Heaven and Hell battle upon the shattered Earth. All Creation trembles... and at the center of it all stands your brother." At this, Death's eyes narrowed and one hand went for the handle of his scythe.

"He is innocent." he stated.

"I never said he wasn't." the Old One began with a sigh. "The Tree holds power over life and death. If you would resurrect Humanity, then you are headed in the right direction. But be warned- a dark presence dwells now within the Tree, and the path is barred by Corruption."

Death took note of this warning before he heard a sharp cry from Dust. The bird was now perched over the entrance to a tunnel that led away from the hollow. Death departed down the tunnel, taking in the sound of water falling at the sides, reverberating off of the walls.

Crossing over a deep ridge through a hollowed-out tree he came into a wide, open village of stone- built into the twin mountains, it seemed. Connecting them was a strong bridge of stone. On the far mountain rose a great, palatial structure. The carving over the door was a great face, aged and wise in appearance- like that of the Elder that he met back in the clearing. There rang over the valley a metallic _clang_; there was a forge nearby. The air was pungent with sweat and sulfur- typical of the Makers. This world was brought to life by them, made for their benefit. So why were there not more?

Death was brought from his pensive thoughts as he heard a harsh, guttural battle cry- almost mistaking it for his younger brother, War. _'He will not be found here.' _he thought to himself with a pang of guilt. Silently did he quell his guilty thoughts for fear that they would cause the spirits now within to feed off of them. Again did he chastise himself for such nonsense, but not without some degree of pain.

Instead, he was met with the sight of another Maker- a warrior from the look of him, dressed head to foot in armor and wielding an axe- the blade of which was about as big as the Horseman was tall. It took a second before the warrior's beady eyes fell upon the Horseman and he stood up at his full height, spitting to the side as he surveyed the newcomer.

"Hmph." he scoffed. "The Reaper. It's about time you came." he growled. To the Horseman's perplexed glare, he nodded towards the structure built into the mountain. "The Makers are dying, and our realm." Those beady eyes returned to Death. "We few are all that remain."

"A warrior's life is never easy, old one." replied Death nonchalantly.

"Aye." the old warrior conceded, "Not easy, but simple. I always saw my end with blade in hand, a field of enemy dead before me."

The Nephilim's orange eyes shifted to the rather large, yet simplistic gate atop stairs, past the gargantuan Maker- warrior- consisting of a round carved stone that looked like it had to be pushed aside to be opened. "And what glorious end awaits you, hiding behind these gates?" he challenged.

The warrior heaved a mix of a sigh and a growl and shook his head. "You cannot fight Corruption, nor can you harm it. You can only kill those it has claimed. Every blow I strike against Corruption... is a blow against my own people. Muse on that, rider, before you mark me as a coward."

Death lightly considered these words, questioning the existence of this... Corruption as he turned away, crossing the bridge. As he neared the structure, the path split in opposite directions, ascending up stairs into twin atriums. The clanging he had noted earlier came from the atrium at his left and he trudged his way up.

This forge he approached was very... makeshift, he noted. There were tables piled with metal work, a central anvil- where another Maker was toiling away, a mask covering his face to protect from flying embers. There was another in the forge- a female with wild red hair tied back with many braids. She seemed to be monitoring the work with a careful eye. Death could only hope that this was indeed the 'Forge Sister' he was supposed to speak to.

The female's eyes widened when she noted their visitor. "Maker's beard," she murmured, "the rumors are true. A Horseman in the Forge Lands!" After she took a moment to calm herself, she continued. "The name's Alya, and that's my brother, Valus. We are the keepers of this forge." Her introduction was cut short when they both turned to the hissing sound as hot metal was plunged into a basin of water. "Tho' I reckon that means less now, than once it did."

"This is a Maker's Forge?" Death asked in disbelief.

"Nay." replied Alya with a shake of her head. "The Maker's Forge is closed to us. Silenced by the hands of Corruption. But in its depths we once crafted the Dark Towers of Hell and the Cities of Heaven."

"Now you make... trinkets?" Death asked. To this Alya laughed morosely.

"And you- one of the four- now seek the aid of makers? I guess we've all fallen from high places."

"I came here seeking the Tree, and your Elder speaks of fire." he countered tersely. "What is it?"

"Aye," Alya began with a knowing nod, "the Fire of the Mountain- the Stonefather's Blood- it once flowed into our Forge as did the tears. Both imbued our craft with incredible power. The Heart and the Soul of Stone. But Corruption has taken them, and now our forge is silent."

"Why does this concern me?" Death countered.

"The way to the tree is lost, barred by Corruption. You can no more leave this place than we. Restore our forge, and the tree can be reached." To this, Death's eyes narrowed.

"I don't follow your reasoning."

"We are Makers, not warriors- but we are not without our weapons. Before the Forge was lost, we crafted a mighty creature of soul and stone... a colossus to fight this Corruption. But, to awaken him requires a Maker's Key- and we need our Forge to craft one. Will you help us?" Death deliberated, but then begrudgingly conceded. After asking what would have to be done, he was directed to go to 'The Cauldron'.

"What is this... Cauldron?" he asked.

"A temple built in the shadow of Stonefather's Peak." she answered. "There the Fire of the Mountain was harnessed and passed into our forge." He was given directions then to ride east, through an area called the Charred Pass and towards the peak.

He turned away, ready to perform his task when he noted the other forge master- the silent Maker wearing the mask, still performing his tasks without a word.

"Man of no words, your brother." he noted.

"Hmmm," replied Alya knowingly, "but hardly silent. His voice is the ring of the hammer, and the roar of the white flame."

"Yes," noted Death, "he works, while you talk."

He was about to retrace his steps to commence with the task at hand when his eyes fell upon the opposite atrium, where a mist enshrouded what stood beneath it. He was not sure whether it was curiosity or something else that compelled him to look into it, but as he finished climbing the steps, he found that the atrium held a ring of raised stone and soil- but with very few greens and a shriveled tree. He also found another female Maker, one dressed in robes of light silvery blue. Her shock of white hair was gracefully tied into a braid dangling down her front and there was a lily sitting atop it in a strange fashion. As he neared her, he noted the stripe of light blue cloth across her eyes; this female was a shaman.

"We've been awaiting your arrival, Horseman." she noted, her voice humming with deep wisdom. "Your shadow has long hovered over this realm."

"Many know the Reaper, old one. But I don't know you."

"Indeed." she murmured. Her next statement was louder. "We are the builders of this world. But Corruption seethes at its heart, and destroys in days what we shaped over eons. Eidard does his best to soothe our pain, but our souls yearn for only one comfort. Death. We are without hope."

"You despair, old one... and yet raise life from the earth." he noted.

"I am a shaman, bound to this task even as our days darken- although I am certainly not the first, nor am I the only." Before Death could question that statement, she continued. "We are as the vines... coming to root, then to flower and then to decay, dropping seeds upon the dust. A circle everlasting. I cannot stop it... nor can I stop you." The shaman's words sank deep within Death, even when one question was still nagging at his mind.

"Tell me, shaman. What is Corruption?" he inquired.

The lady shaman faltered for but a moment, her lips tightening before she spoke again. "I only know what I fear it to be. That Corruption is hate, given life. And that hate does not come from trees or stones. But from ourselves."

"Tell me more of the Tree of Life." Death suggested.

"The forest around the tree has been Corrupted. It hungers. You cannot reach the tree, not with breath still in you." With that, he turned away wordlessly.

He retraced his steps back across the bridge, this time back up the steps. This time the warrior and the Elder awaited him. "Horseman, you'll find naught that way but trouble." claimed the warrior- Thane, Death quickly learned.

"Do what you must for your kin, Old One." Death replied. "For mine, I ride to the Cauldron."

Thane lightly chuckled. "If you fancy your Corruption waist deep, that's as good a place as any. Y'know there's a reason this gate is here. And, if you were a friend, I would nay let you pass. But then, heh," he began with a smirk, "who is friend to Death?"

Death let the jab roll off of him. He had not the time nor now the patience to deal with these people, compromise or not. "Have you any wisdom to share, or was it long since knocked loose in battle?"

"Oh, wisdom ain't like teeth. I've plenty left." Thane retorted. "Enough to stay clear of the Cauldron. The Ancients filled it with right nasty traps. but one so clever as yourself will surely elude them."

Death looked to the Elder as a series of harsh coughs escaped the Maker's lips. How long had he been like this? It could not be said for sure, but the Horseman knew that he would be paying this Maker another visit before long if he ever got out of here. "The fire is more valuable that I, Horseman." the Elder declared. "You should make haste to the temple."

"Fire alone won't save your realm." Death noted. "You speak of the Forge."

"Aye. Without the fire and Tears of the Mountain, without the Forge itself, we have no means to clear the forest and reach the Tree of Life."

"What then?" Death demanded.

"Our power is over creation. Yours, over death and despair. You are nephilim. Lord of Destruction. Perhaps, in that, there is hope."

"Just how old is the forge?"

"It is as ancient as the realm itself... and, perhaps, even older. It is said that the forge was the first thing we makers built. That in its depths... we shaped entire worlds. Yet still... there are things much older."

Death was left to contemplate this as he noted that Thane had already rolled aside the stone dial to grant Death passage. The Horseman left, leaving the Elder to stare after him.

"Death." he murmured. "A bad omen, yet our best hope." His gaze shifted to the sky and he chuckled as an amusing thought crossed his mind.

After traversing past the obstacle provided in a small pocket of water by climbing up to a smaller path around it, Death arrived at the other edge of the gate.

The sight he was met with as he stepped into the enormous valley caused him to halt completely. The valley forked into several different paths, like the roots of a tree. Just ahead, he could see the faint outline of the Tree of Life in the mist. What made him stop, however, was the very obvious roadblock in the form of a spiny, disease-black... _thing_, growing like a tree itself across the opening to the chasm housing the path onward. It was grotesque, spreading it's tendrils along the wall as if to reassure itself of its grip on the outer wall of rock at all times and search for any sign of life it could take. At the very center was a gleaming green orb, crowned by what looked like an inverting nest of thorns. Without warning, as if it were a head perched on top of someone's neck, the center moved slightly downward and Death noted that the glowing green orb was in fact an eye, with a darkened slit going right down the middle of it- now fixed on him. To anyone else, such a gaze would be chilling; to Death, it merely reminded him that he had a massive annoyance to deal with.

Without warning, the voices started up, whispering threats, uttering unforgiveable names and other obscenities in his mindscape. Clenching his fist seemed to quell such voices, even if for a moment just to allow himself to think.

Veering to his right- toward the east-, he ignored the stare of the monstrous organism across the way, even as it followed him. Instead, Death stepped into a rapid pace, raising his hand as his ghostly mount- a creature so dismal in appearance that the name 'Despair' seemed most appropriate- sprang from the ground. Both mount and Rider disappeared beneath the immense, ornately carved arch and down a winding path amongst another valley.

As he entered the next open area- in which he found more ruins that were built into the very edge of the cliffs- open to the pool of water below, he crossed the old drawbridge over to the other side and paused. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the split in the path; something about this felt off. His thoughts were confirmed when he heard a drawling voice coming from the path to his left.

"Over here." it stated. Death's eyes narrowed and he dismounted Despair, trudging up the path he looked over the pool of water. From an intricately carved stone in the ground rose up a floating figure with various bottles and scrolls attached to the various clothes dangling around its withered body. If the sight of its face- with glowing eyes and fangs protruding from a lipless mouth- wasn't enough of an indicator, the horns and mangled wings indicated this was a demon- one Death was more than familiar with. "Greetings, Horseman. And welcome... I've been expecting you."

"Vulgrim..." he growled tersely, "what brings you crawling out of the shadows?"

The demon merchant in question laughed mischievously. "I wouldn't want to lose my most valuable customer. Not to what lurks at the edge of shadows... So here I am, to offer my wares."

"What do you know that I don't?" the Horseman demanded. "I'm not here by choice, demon."

"I merely followed the trail of carnage." the demon insisted in a feeble attempt to sound innocent. "Your blades are as sharp as ever. Even still, I may be able to help you. I carry things others would... frown upon." The Nephilim knew that the Demon was trying to work to however little curiosity he possessed. It was how Vulgrim attracted his customers. "Go on. Take a look. You won't be disappointed." Death deliberated, but firmly pulled away.

"Another time, demon." he growled. With that, he pulled away and rejoined with his mount.

The second path took Death through another valley, arriving in a clearing in a wide forest. At another split in the path, marked by a set of ruined stone steps, he rushed Despair further east, past the constructs bursting from the ground. Those wandering around were subjected to a swung scythe and broken apart easily.

He passed under another archway. Just beyond this, the ground went out a few meters and then dropped off into a great canyon. In the distance, he could see a great volcano and he knew he was going in the right direction. But he stopped when he realized that where the ledge had likely continued on, there was now nothing of the sort, as if that part had been cut off clean by some enormous force. Death knew there was no way he could jump it, and the wall to his right was sloping- no good for scaling. He scanned the area and found a rather tall, but very sick looking tree. He approached the tree and touched a hand to it.

One swipe of each scythe half was all it took before it fell. Using the ghostly hands he could summon at will, Death meticulously placed the tree so that it could properly support his weight.

As he was about to step on the trunk of the fallen tree, however, several things happened at once. First, there was the snap of a twig, and then a sharp pain at the back of his head. He turned around, his blades flourished, but stopped. Standing there was not a Maker, like he had expected, but a girl who looked to be the size of a human. She could not have been more than eighteen or so from the look of her- with skin the color of buttermilk, clothed in simple garments. Eyes the color of a leaf filtering in afternoon sunlight glared back at him and wavy hair the color of autumn leaves billowed in the wind gusting between them. He looked to his feet and did not have to put two and two together that the good-sized rock that had hit the back of his head had come from her. Shifting his gaze back up at here, he noted with some puzzlement that something about this girl felt strange, though he knew not what, and he was sure it was more than just the question of what a girl of such a short and seemingly fragile appearance was doing amongst the Makers.

"I know that I am not the most well-liked being in this universe," he drawled, "but was the rock truly necessary?"

"Oh," the girl replied, "so the fact that ye just killed a tree bothers ye not?" she replied boldly. Before he could respond, she continued. "I suppose it did not occur to you that even trees possess souls. How could it? They cannae speak or truly defend themselves, right?"

"There was no other way across." he retorted. "Besides, the tree was dying."

"I was _mending _it!" she replied.

"So you're a druid." he concluded. "Strange that the Makers never mentioned you. I rest my case, however." He turned back to the tree, ready to cross.

"Oi! I'm not finished with you, yet!" she cried. Death felt a smirk grow beneath his mask. If there were time he could have spared, he would indulge this young Druid in a game of wits. Already he had barely talked to her but a few moments and she seemed like she could hold her own against him, to his amusement. "_Kinslayer!" _she cried out. He paused as he stepped toward the middle of the makeshift bridge.

In what seemed to be a fraction of a second, the girl took a blow to the torso and gasped for air as she found the wind knocked out of her and her back to the slope of the hill, pinned between it and an extremely incensed Nephilim. His eyes blazed as they gazed directly into hers, the sharpened blades of his scythes dangerously close to her thin neck. "I relented on the rock, druid," he rasped irately, "because I have witnessed many a time where anger has driven one to do something foolish. What I do not tolerate, however, is that name. Call me by such a name again and you shall not live to see another leaf fall. You know me by my work, and thus you know that I make no such thing as idle threats." He expected the girl to recoil from the threat of his scythes; what he was met with instead was a harsh glare back from those luminescent eyes.

"Go ahead then." she replied. "I'm _not_ afraid of you." To his surprise, he found her to be right; there was not one ounce of fear in her eyes. He pulled away from her and wordlessly returned to the path he had started on.

_**'Do not attack the girl for seeing you as you are.' **_cried a voice in his head

_**'Traitor!' **_cried a second voice.

_**'Coward!'**_

_** 'Killer!" **_chorused a third and a fourth voice. Death struggled against these callous voices, gritting his teeth to force them out of his mind yet again. On the wind, he almost heard what sounded like a light sob. Had he been his usual self, he wouldn't have turned. He questioned it in his mind as to why he did. What he saw was the girl kneeling before the stump left of the tree. Even from such a distance, he saw the tear drop from her cheek to the remains of the great tree.

As if she could feel his eyes upon her, she turned, their gazes meeting for but a moment before she turned away so rapidly and dashed back the way he had come from. He turned back with a shake of his head and then summoned his mount to continue along the path.

* * *

><p>The air was hazy and unbearable as Death neared the mountain fortress. His eyes were careful and alert; already he and Despair had nearly been the unsuspecting targets of flying molten rock that shot off from the open top of the mountain. The confined space of the narrow pass he was now traversing did nothing for the integrity of cover from such projectiles.<p>

Finally when the heat became more than unbearable and the choking smell of sulfur lingered in the air, he heard the cries of effort and the crash of stone against stone. He quickly dismissed Despair and dashed in, hands itching for the twin halves of his scythe.

There was another Maker fighting the constructs, bald and wearing little in the way of armor. If the unwrinkled face didn't give away evidence of his youth and inexperience, his clumsy, unskilled fighting style with a smaller hammer did. With a sigh to himself, Death ran in, scythes ready to disassemble. If the young one had any objections about the Nephilim joining him in battle, he did not voice them. It seemed in fact that the young Maker was glad for the help.

The Constructs were rendered to stone in very short time. When the dust settled, the young one grinned at Death before giving a hearty laugh. "The tales be true! A rider has come to the realm!" he cried.

"Not another one." the Nephilim groaned under his breath.

"You're the nephilim... the one they call Death. How did you get here?"

"Took a wrong turn." Death replied nonchalantly. "It appears I'm stranded here with the rest of you." The young Maker took no insult- or if he did, it rolled right off.

"If you seek the Cauldron, you should know that it fell to Corruption fair long ago. I can still feel the fire itself running deep in the earth."

"I'll take my chances." Death replied. He gazed at this new face. "You're different than the others. Less pleasant on the eyes, for one." To this, the young Maker barked a sharp laugh.

"I could say no less for you. Folks around town call me pup or lad. But I prefer my own name... Karn."

"'Pup' it is, then." To this, Karn shrugged.

"As you will... matters not to me."

"Why not restore the fire yourself?" Death asked.

"I came here just for that purpose-" Karn replied, "figured I'd pop the cork, so to speak- be the hero. But the Cauldron is locked up well and tight, and the way through swallowed by fire. You look capable enough- perhaps you can find a way. I'll wait here and guard the entrance."

Death's eyes nearly narrowed, but he suppressed it as he waited and watched Karn lower the bridge over the river of magma beneath them.

* * *

><p><strong>Phew! Alright, we've met all of the Makers- even Vulgrim- and Eleyna. I do hope that in the parts not included in the game I did Death justice. Like I said, he's kinda tricky personality-wise. I hope you also enjoyed the brief glimpse of Eleyna. There will be much more of her down the road, I assure you. Until next time, ^^.<strong>


	3. Chapter Two: The Cauldron

**Alright, my awesome readers. This was meant to be a sort of reverse birthday present for all of you seeing as how yesterday was my birthday, but it wasn't finished yet yesterday. Thankfully I had a little bit of time to sit down and write the rest of it this morning. I'll be working and preparing from now through Christmas, so there probably won't be another chapter up until after then. ****I wish you all so many Happy Holidays and if I don't have another chapter up by then, I will see you all in the New Year. Much love and many hugs to you all. ^^**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Darksiders universe or anything/anyone featured in Darksiders II. The game and universe belong to the original developer/creator of the series. The awesome picture of Eleyna was made by 'The phantom's girl' on the Dark Fairy creator on the Azalea's Dolls website.**

Chapter Two: The Cauldron

The heat as Death entered the old Temple was stifling, and he didn't even bother to fathom how the Makers had endured such conditions when they built this place. Pushing a switch that opened the grate over the door ahead, Death moved into an open room. Immediately he could see why such a place would be called a cauldron; hanging from the ceiling was a large, thick and heavy chain that reached over a large, multilayered metallic covering on the floor, like the lid of a cauldron or pot. He could see two heavy metallic weights suspended above.

His exploration of this room was interrupted as he heard the stone constructs burst forth from the ground. He pulled the scythes from his sides and leapt into the fray. When all that was left was the stone remnants on the floor, his eye caught the eerie green glow in the corner opposite. Moving closer proved the source to be a sort of spiky black and green plant. He had seen these of a different sort before, so he knew that if attached to something, they would alight and explode in a moment's notice. Taking one, he threw it towards the switch up on the wall, cut off from him by a hole in the floor- fortified in its impassibility by a pool of lava below. The resulting explosion pushed the lever in and the grate opened for Death.

After pushing his way through the door, he noted two things- one was the construct rushing toward him, which he took care of with a few swipes of his scythe. The second was a strange spectral lock over the door to his left, which he regarded with narrowed eyes. "Where there is a lock, a key is never too far." he noted. Instead, he went through the door ahead, into a cavernous room cut off by streams of lava flowing. Death veered to the left, his initial leap onto the wall graduating to a quick and steady climb until he reached the ledge and traversed its length. Leaning back, he leaped onto the solid ground and then over the gap in the floor in order to turn around the corner. In the next fragment of this room, he found another switch, although it was out of reach- as was the bomb he could use to activate it.

Gazing around granted him knowledge of another ledge high up. Again he scaled the wall, pausing on the ledge for only a moment and then passing it and leaping to the broken beam behind him. From there, he adjusted his height and then flipped up onto the first of the horizontal beams just beyond that. From there he followed the ledges to a section of wall covered in vines. Climbing down, he pulled the bomb from its place and threw it at the lever across the way. Leaping down, he pushed the doors open with his spectral hands.

The hall he entered was quite long and very quiet, which edged Death into keeping his hands near the handles of his scythes. He was right to have, for at that moment he heard the sound of grates rising up out of the door ahead. With that, he found himself surrounded by the constructs once more. They charged him, but they were not nearly fast enough to catch him, as he sensed an opening and leapt out of the confining circle before turning to sink his blade into the stone. Sensing an opportunity to attack, one of the enemies ran at him from the side; poor planning on its part, as Death leaned to the side and coiled up his leg. The resounding kick sent the creature flying- straight into the pit of lava left forgotten in the corner. With another jab from the knee, Death left another sprawled on the floor and he shifted quickly to merge his scythe together before bringing the pointed end of the shaft down on the core stone, where the black matter seemed to come from. The construct stopped struggling after mere seconds.

The others were dispatched with reasonable haste, a few managing a bruising hit on him- not that Death's pale skin and lack of blood flow would allow such things to be seen. He heaved a sigh of fatigue when the door finally opened, but he trudged through.

Taking in very little of this short hallway, Death turned to find a staircase leading up to an open area, but it was the sounds of fighting that caused him to reach for his scythe handles once more. Slowly did he proceed up the stairs so as not to attract attention to himself. With that done, he noted what seemed to be a territorial fight between the constructs and a very large, four-legged demon that had a nasty-looking club for a tail. He waited until the number of the constructs dwindled down to merely a few before moving in. The demon, noting another possible threat, forwent the constructs for this larger prey. He managed to jump back from a potentially damaging strike before he moved in with a swiftness that matched his foe's. After a few good slashes, Death moved back, this time allowing one of the constructs to come between him and the demon. The stone creature was torn apart in moments and then the demon went back to attempting to slash at him. He dodged a few of the swipes and for the rest he parried with similar swipes of his scythes. It was finished, he knew, when the creature fell to its side.

In a small alcove across the way from whence he had come he found a chest. When his spectral arms broke it apart, they pulled out and presented to him a rather large key. Dust flew overhead back the way they came. Clearly the featherbrained creature was not at all fond of being here in this heat. Death did not waste any time, either. From the view he had of the broken room he had traversed but moments ago, he dashed along the wall, back to that middle part. When he approached the first part once more, he found that there was a small, caved in bridge just below that led back to the door. After jumping down, he followed the gentle slope and retreated from the room. When he found the room with the spectral lock, he had his spectral arms appear with the key in their bony hands and plunge the instrument between the jaw-like casings of the lock. With a simple twist, the lock was gone.

In this next room, he was met by a wide bowl-like cavity in the middle of the floor, covered in angular, blue-glowing runes. He easily concluded that the giant orb of black with similar angular markings of that same glowing blue was meant to go into the cavity and he gently rolled and then pushed it into said cavity. The runes following the cavity lit up one by one in a path that led to the farther wall. Further up on that same wall, mechanics manipulated a loose section of the wall to turn so that facing him was a stump facing out from the wall. Death approached and climbed up the wall, moving to the left until a wall section covered in vines allowed him to pull himself up to the higher level.

The short passageway he followed brought him back to the room with the giant cauldron, across the way from where he had been before he had passed through the door. He moved on as soon as he spotted a ledge he could climb to, pushing himself up with the assistance of a wall post. After climbing around and down with the added assistance of a section of wall covered in vines, he pushed on through a small hole in the wall. Seeing the switch there, he pressed it and the grated doorway to his right was cleared with a few simple turnings of gears.

He sauntered down the hallway, only to find another spectral lock over the door ahead, behind two constructs. The creatures had spotted him and rushed up the stairs with hammers flailing, their footsteps like crashes against the stone. Death moved before they could advance the steps to where he was and crumbled to the stone now as nothing more than stone fragments.

Death entered into a courtyard that came into full view of the mountain and thus had the fiery projectiles dotting it constantly. What it also contained were constructs that rose to the challenge. He met with them one at a time, moving out of the way at one moment so that the construct he was currently facing would be hit by a flying projectile of fire from the mountain. When the courtyard was cleared, he took in his surroundings- from the chest behind the grate to the multiple bowl-like cavities dotted into the ground. Following the trails allowed Death an insight as to what to do. First, he searched around the courtyard until he found a shadowy bomb and he cast it at the Corruption blocking him from one of the stone spheres. Rather than bring it to the closest basin when it was freed, instead he pushed it across the way, to where another sphere was blocked by a grate. After settling the first sphere into the basin, he took the freed sphere and pushed it toward one of the basins at the side of the main grate. Retrieving another shadow bomb, Death threw it at the first sphere. The reacting explosion was just the push that brought it out. He then maneuvered it across the courtyard and right into the second basin, thus completely opening the grate. As with the last time the spectral hands pulled from the chest another large key.

After returning and opening the spectral lock, Death came across a room where another set of heavy chains plunged from the ceiling into the lake of lava below. Upon seeing a switch, Death pushed it in. From the infernally hot depths came what looked like a metal grating over a tall crucible. After a mere second, he realized that this position would not hold. Quickly, he rushed to the ledge on his right and climbed his way over to the small outcropping of wall closest to the ledges on the crucible. As he grabbed onto the crude ledge, he ignored the scalding heat of the surface, especially as he heard a loud _click. _He moved around the circumference of the apparatus and leapt to safety on the other side. He heard another metallic _click, _followed by another and another, growing faster and faster until finally the crucible and the metallic grating above it plunged back into the depths of the magma. Death continued into what seemed to be a deep well and made his ascent. When he pulled himself up once more, he found a gap that lead down into the chamber below, where he had just come from; he finally understood then what the metal grating was for. Taking a shadowy bomb from the strange-looking 'plant' that grew at his left, he tossed it at the switch he saw across the room, causing the crucible to rise once more and Death crossed the walkway.

Upon ascending the steps and crossing the wide room, Death stopped as he heard grating go up behind him. This was followed by a rumbling radiating from a far wall. His fingers inched closer to the handles of his scythes as the rumbling grew more violent. A sound rang in his ears that sounded like metal grinding on stone and Death then realized that something was trying to break through.

And break through it did- a Construct unlike anything Death had ever seen before, bigger and quite angry looking, with a mean piece of morning-star like equipment at the end of its left hand. Sword handles protruded like spikes from its back. Upon seeing him, it brought the revolving left hand down, allowing the spikes to ground against the stone of the floor in challenge. Death pulled his scythes free and rushed in. The large construct swiped at him, only missing by a hair's width as he dodged. This is what the enemy hoped for, however and when he was at a more than vulnerable position, the construct dug its left 'hand' into Death's side. The Horseman ignored the excruciating pain- as he usually did and kicked himself up, ready to go again.

All that could be heard about the room were the metallic clashes as scythe blades clashed with spikes. From underneath, the construct attempted to uppercut Death with the spinning morning star attached to its arm. It didn't relent, however, even as he moved away and the Horseman found himself relentlessly chased by the construct. It wasn't until it hit the wall after Death took a sharp turn away that it stopped. From there he combined his half-scythes and threw the whole weapon, twisting it in midair in a way that resembled a deadly spinning disk. The construct slumped over then as if weakened. Death then took his chance and attacked with no quarter. The construct did not stir- did not even flinch, and this is what caused him to stop.

With a violent explosion, he was sent back, jarred but otherwise no worse for the wear. He rapidly recovered, just enough as to where he was able to block another possible blow from the spinning morning star and with all of his strength push it back angrily. Having had enough of this thing already, he moved in with all of the skill and grace as he possessed, being the original assassin. At the very last second, his visage was that of another- a much more frightening and gruesome being, hooded and skinless in form. From the back of its raggedy hood protruded skeletal, bat-like wings and in the bony hands it held an enormous jagged scythe, sharpened to reap life from every being on this plain should its wielder so choose.

The construct reached forward with its left arm, but this new creature was ever quicker, blocking such a blow with the gargantuan blade of its chosen weapon. After a moment, the spikes caught, ceasing the rotation of the morning star. The two stood- or in the case of one, floated- at a standstill for but a second before the dark creature shoved the spiked hand to the side and then swung. What this enemy failed to realize was that the dark creature had more of a range with the swung weapon and had left a great opening at its back. Before it could react, the blade broke through the stone of it chest. Such a blow rendered it to its rocky knees. The creature of the black depths struck once more- twice more and the great construct was no more. In a maelstrom of dark magic, the creature returned to the form of the Horseman Death. He felt no pain as a consequence of the battle save for a little stiffness. That was easily cracked out of his bones and muscles and he took off through the door ahead.

After traversing a long hallway- and finding a hammer with which he could sense some possessive potential- he opened the door at the end and found himself back in the cavernous first room once more. Before him was a great dais on which a lever stood, facing parallel to the ground rather than perpendicular to it. Noting how the floor beneath radiated from this particular lever, he concluded that it had to be turned. After grasping and attempting to turn it clockwise, only to find it wouldn't budge, he pushed forward, turning the lever in a counterclockwise manner. As he did so, he could hear the metallic grinding and groaning of chains rusted beyond repair; over his shoulder, he noted that the giant weights that had formerly hung overhead were now touching the floor and with that, he pulled away. As he did, the entire temple seemed to rumble to life.

Death watched then as the giant 'lid' to the cauldron in the floor was lifted and as the fiery glow called the 'Fire of the Mountain' rose from its depths, following a crude, rectangular pipeline that led back west, toward the village. He noted the grate that had lifted from over the door behind him and he followed the descending staircase beyond it. This, in turn, led him down to the door back out into the open. With one final spectral push, Death forced the doors open and forced himself back into the open. Crossing the drawbridge, he walked back to the area where Karn was still waiting for him.

"The mountain has a voice!" the young Maker exclaimed. "How did you... No, no it doesn't matter. You have done what we, what I... failed to do. You must take the good news to Alya as soon as you can." There was something amusing in Death's eyes about being the bringer of good news for a change. Yet something within his memory caused him to look back at Karn.

"There is an urchin in your wood whom is under the impression that she protects the forest." he noted.

"Oh, you must mean Eleyna." the larger being pointed out after a moment. "Strange that ye call her 'urchin', though. Aye, she protects these forests, as Eidard bade her, but she's a gentle soul."

Death almost snorted in derision. "Her throwing arm says otherwise." he muttered.

"Oh," began Karn knowingly. "Ye did somethin' to her trees?"

"I needed a way across. A tree provided it for me." Death replied simply.

"Then that would serve ye right. Eleyna cares for every tree in the forest. She told me once that the trees speak to her."

"Speak to her?" the Horseman echoed. "Impossible. Not even a druid should have that power." To this, Karn barked out a laugh.

"If ye only knew, Horseman." At this, Death had no more patience for the young Maker and marched away, summoning Despair when he felt he was far enough away. There was no sign of luminescent eyes watching him between the trees, no flicker of that red hair. Pulling himself from that thought, he pushed ahead, through the forest.

* * *

><p>He arrived at the village and did as Karn had suggested, noting that at the left side of the high temple, there was now the liquid fire flowing down like a waterfall. The resulting stream it made the lower rim around the atrium of Alya's forge alight with warm light. When he approached the tiny forge, Alya began to heartily laugh in childish delight. "Horseman!" she barked upon seeing him. "The Fire of the Mountain flows again!"<p>

"Yes. Freed by my hand... and Karn's."

"Karn?" Alya repeated incredulously. "That pup?! He hasn't a clue!" Her incredulity faded and was ultimately replaced by great joy. "And yet... the forge burns once more. You know what awaits you rider. To finish this, you must restore the tears."

"I'm not your errand boy, maker." Death replied testily.

"Aye, but our fates are now yoked. Help us, and we will help you. In the meantime, take this... it might be of use." With that, she reached behind her and pulled out a rather large pistol. Dusting it off and giving the cylinder a good spin, she then held it out in offering towards the Horseman. Death's eyes widened as he took it.

"I know this pistol..." he murmured. "It belongs to my brother, Strife. How came it here?" he demanded with narrowed eyes. Alya refused to say, but instead invited him to look at their wares. He, however, was more interested in finishing the job. "You said there were two things that powered your forge, fire and tears."

"Yes," affirmed Alya, "fire to wake the earth and tears to calm it- both gifts of the Stonefather."

"Then fire will not be enough." he noted.

"Nay. We require both."

"Where might I find the Tears of the Mountain?" he asked.

"To the west, past the Fjord and into the Drenchfort." she replied. "You'll find the tears within. Ask Eidard to help you find a way into the Drenchfort."

"I cannot simply walk in?" he asked.

"Nay." she said simply. "We gave no quarter in attempting to make sure Corruption did not make its way out... and that fools like Karn did not venture in. Eidard knows better than any the best way into the Drenchfort."

With a very brief nod, Death retraced his steps, finding the maker Elder close by the enormous door to the forge.

"You seek an audience with me, Horseman?" he greeted sagely.

"I am told you know the best way into the Drenchfort." Death replied.

"The only way." the Elder corrected. "Seek out Eleyna. It is she who can provide you with a path within."

"You cannot be serious." Death deadpanned.

"Is there a problem?" asked Eidard calmly.

"The child threw a rock at my head for cutting down a tree; you tell me."

Eidard was silent for but a moment. "Many of us have taken to refraining from cutting down the trees because it greatly offends her."

"You speak as if the child is a goddess."

"Not so, Horseman, but Eleyna is powerful, and if you are to restore the Tears, you will need her help."

"What can you tell me of Eleyna?"

"As I said, powerful, nearly as stubborn as any Maker. She takes to the company of the trees and the animals better than other people."

"What is she?" Death pried.

"We know not." Eidard replied. "She came to this plain as a small child; when the Makers grew suspicious of her, she fled to the forest and kept herself there, caring for the flora and fauna."

"So you took pity on something you did not understand." Death concluded.

"I was young in age myself when I found her as a small child, Horseman. She is maybe but a few centuries younger than I." Death's eyes marginally widened at this knowledge. "She has attempted to care for our forests with her best efforts, but I fear that soon that may still prove in vain."

"Where can I find Eleyna?" the Horseman asked.

"Head back east, to Baneswood. Take the path to the northeast, through the thicket of trees. Deep within there is where you will find Eleyna's home. You will know it when you find it."

With these instructions- and a nearly inaudible groan under his breath, Death took off, back through the gate.

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><p><strong>So that is going to be a very tense reunion... Anyways readers, as I said before, many warm holiday greetings and hugs and if you don't hear from me beforehand, Happy New Year! <strong>


	4. Chapter Three: The Drenchfort

***sighs* Hello, my dear readers. I'm so sorry this took forever and a day to update. I got caught up in the holidays and then another possible story idea... To top it all off, work went crazy and after that I essentially had no energy to sit and write or do much of anything. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday and a great New Year's celebration. So here we have a little more interaction between Death and Eleyna. Yes, she is going to be difficult... Anyways, I dedicate this chapter to my boyfriend, who got me into this awesome series and has helped me develop these stories with a little bit of roleplay. This chapter has our favorite lines in it- see if you can guess. ^^ Happy Belated Anniversary, love. Anyways, on with our chapter. I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Darksiders universe. It belongs to the original creator and the developers of the games. The wonderful cover image was made by 'The phantom's girl'.**

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><p>Chapter Three: The Drenchfort<p>

The path towards Eleyna's had been nearly impossible to find, as Death had nearly not noticed the break in the wall of rock, narrow as it was. He followed the narrow trail for what felt like hours, his patience waning with every twist and turn he made. And then there were the thorns... If she wanted no visitors, she picked the right way to keep people out.

He heard angry cawing overhead as Dust attempted to weave about the trees, as the branches were thick and tangled together.

"I fail to see how you have room to complain." Death grumbled. "You have a better view than I do at this moment." This was true, as the trees that grew in this area were so tall and round with their age that it made any visibility nigh impossible save for his view of the moss-covered ground and the bits of shrapnel-like light that filtered to it. The bird let loose another 'caw' of protest. "See what you can find." ordered Death.

The bird wove its way about the enormous tree trunks, disappearing from view for but a few moments. He trailed behind it cautiously and carefully. There was something that did not add up about this place; it was dark and he felt like something sinister lurked in the shadows, hardly befitting for a child of life. When Dust circled back around, Death picked up his pace, also weaving around trees.

He stopped as he finally reached a clearing. What he found there was almost comical in its appearance. Beneath what must have been the eldest and most enormous of the trees in this part of the forest- the roots of which were nearly uprooted so that it leaned precariously to one side. Nestled between these roots were stones and a thick mud-straw mixture that created a rough thatched roof. Smaller branches

Dust gave a light-hearted caw as he landed as his partner's shoulder. With a roll of his shoulder, he dismissed the feathery creature and approached. It was with a raised curiosity that he noticed the door was not even all the way closed. In a very rare, gingerly manner, he pushed it so that it opened enough for him to step in. It was dark, cramped and musty beyond this door, but his vision soon adjusted to the shadows and he found himself easily maneuvered through the narrow passage.

To his almost surprise, he found that the room opened to a large, open living area. Rather than the dirt and roots of the tree and other various fauna serving as the walls, there was more stone, almost as if the tree had rooted itself over stone and this girl had carved into it. Speaking of the girl, he found her pouring over something and then she shifted her body to continue pouring into something else, scrutinizing what looked to be very, _very _old scrolls. Funnily enough, she had given no indication amidst her murmurings that she had even heard him enter. He could almost laugh at the situation, but instead, he quietly approached, leering over her as she continued to mull over.

The scroll she was looking at had an archaic diagram of a tree. He noted the alchemic symbols that made up the facade of branches. Another was etched in very old- almost illegible writing. This little girl was working on something; seemed almost a pity to draw her away from her work.

"Bit of light reading?" he whispered as he leaned in close. The mentioned girl jumped with a small, surprised cry and then rapidly turned. There was surprise and fear that lingered in her eye for but a second and then was replaced by a deep glare. Death then found himself completely haunted by those iridescent green eyes.

"Was that really necessary?" she breathily asked.

"Was what?" he replied.

"Ye appeared out of nowhere! It's like ye went '_poof'_!_"_

Death's eyes narrowed and he slowly leaned in until he was towering over the girl.

"I don't _poof_." he said slowly, to which she deeply had to try to keep from laughing. Instead, she became serious, crossing her arms.

"Of course not. I reckon that if ye had it yer way, ye would sneak up on your poor hapless victims and put 'em through coronary failure before ye even had to draw one of yer blades."

"Now that we have an understanding of each other..." he countered.

"Aye," she replied, "I see that ye've taken to enterin' homes without the owner's permission as well as killin' innocent trees."

"Child-"

"I have a name, and I would prefer that ye would use it." she stated crossly.

Death disregarded that interruption. "And I would prefer that you hold your tongue whilst I try to speak to you civilly."

"Civilly?" the girl guffawed. "If _this _is your idea of civility-"

"Child," he began, lowly enough for her to stop in her administration of sarcasm, "I came here because the elder believed that you would help me reach the Drenchfort. I am in a bit of a rush and have no time nor need to look back on my past ventures, whether I was wrong about them or not." Eleyna silenced her ready and sharp tongue, deliberating carefully. With a ragged breath of finality, she turned her head, her long wisps of autumn- auburn hair moving statically about her.

"If it were you asking I would tell you to be on your way, find another way in; but for Eidard, I can deny nothing." She rolled up her scrolls slowly, as if defeated. She picked up a wide pouch and Death heard a strange sound, like sand falling, except heavier- and she fastened it to her waist. Next she gave a sharp clap and Death watched with slight fascination as various items flew to her. "Come, we must be fleet of foot."

They stepped out of her home and something caused Death to stop. Why had he not seen it before? In the now clear daylight, the thorns took the sickly green shine of Corruption. Even worse was the fact that the way the branches grew towards the giant tree. Even the thorns pointed toward the tree. For whatever reason, Death knew not, but Corruption had set its sights on Eleyna for some time. The noose was tightening, it seemed.

Eleyna walked through the forest needing no expert skill. Death was not surprised in the slightest. From the look of that tree, she had lived in it most of her life, away from everything and everyone, where only the trees seemed to listen to her. Many would call that a lonely life; not Death. She was not entirely alone- not like him.

_**'No less than you deserve!' **_cried the voices emanating from the shards in his chest. With teeth clenched painfully together, he banished them from his mind. Once they were clear of the vale, he paused.

"Tell me, have you ever ridden on a horse before?" he asked. She raised a brow, in spite of the fact that he paid her no attention.

"Somethin' tells me I'm about to have a first-hand experience." she deadpanned. In response, Death raised his hand and from the spectral green wisps and fire that had covered the ground, she got her first glimpse of the mount known as Despair. "So this is one of the fabled mounts of the Four." she said softly as the large creature approached. She stepped forward slowly and Death watched closely, ready in case she spooked him. He had to admit that he was somewhat impressed. Many who had laid eyes on his horse recoiled from the sight of it, calling it 'sinister' and 'unnatural'; Eleyna showed no fear, even going so far to reach for it. At this, he tensed, waiting for the reflexive sign of fear. It never came- Despair's ears twitched and went back, but the girl had sensed his unease. With a gentle voice and a language lost to him, she whispered something to him fingertips just barely grazing its diseased face.

Death's surprise had increased as his mount's head lowered. A creature that had often been seen as a harbinger of doom was now tentatively nuzzling the tiny creature before it as she whispered and softly laughed beneath her breath with not a shred of fear. When she looked to him, it was with a knowing smile.

"You would be the first aside from me that he would do that for." he stated. She shrugged, the knowing smile still on her face.

"Leave it to my affinity for handling animals." she began. A warning _caw_ was all the warning she needed before a mass of black feathers landed on her shoulder. "And salutations to you, my fine feathered friend." she began amusedly. Said bird replied with a sharp nip to the bronze hoop embedded into her ear.

"Dust," Death barked sharply. The bird let go instinctually and puffed up its feathers as if they would provide a shield against the Horseman's wrath. "We have no time for antics, bird."

"Dust is its name?" Eleyna clarified while scooping the abnormally large crow into her hand, shifting so that she held him before her. Death nodded and she responded with a wry smile. "How appropriate." she noted before turning back to the bird. "Alright, little friend." she began with a whisper. Her eyes closed for but a moment as the bird settled in her joined hands and then she let it fly. "Go." she told it.

At that point, Death had mounted Despair and reached for Eleyna. With a tentative stare and finally a sigh of assent, she allowed a reaching hand and he pulled her up, situating her in front of him.

While the fact that she was again so close to him- with his _bare_ chest at her back and arms encircling her- it was all the more enthralling feeling the wind against her face and the rapid but steady hoof beats in her ears, the gentle back-and-forth rocking- the first time in ages that she had experienced something new. She was tempted to throw her arms out and for once in her life embrace the fresh air... Then she realized with whom she was riding, as well as the state of her fellow rider's dress. With a deep stripe of pink touching her face, she instead held on tightly, keeping her excitement quiet.

They raced out of the Weeping Crag, where Death had met up with Vulgrim before and rode on, crossing the large Vale. Eleyna cringed when she felt the eye of the enormous embodiment of Corruption focus on her. She could feel something emanating from it, but kept turned away from it, silent only until she saw a very familiar, very large shape before the doorway they were meant to enter. As soon as the recognition hit her, she gave a groan.

"What is he doing out here?" she grumbled as they got closer. Meanwhile, his attention was brought to the cluster of bombs covering the Corruption overhead. "Karn," she began as she swung herself off the horse, landing in a slight crouch before straightening herself out and sauntering toward the young Maker. "After what happened last time, I would think ye would know better than this."

"Ye can't expect me to control my nature any more than ye can, Eleyna." Karn retorted, but he paused as the girl sternly glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. His gaze shifted to the ironically lesser threatening of the two- the Horseman who now approached. Putting on a brave face, Karn spoke again. "We tried to seal in the Corruption," he stated, looking over his shoulder at the damaged gate, "but no good came of it."

"Now that I have you two here, what can you tell me of the Drenchfort?"

"The Drenchfort lies just beyond this barrier. It was the first thing taken by Corruption. We sealed the Stonefather's Tears inside, fearing what would happen if they spread.

"If I do as Alya asks, you'll soon find out." Death replied. "It is also why I have Eleyna with me."

"Aye, and the realm will be better for it." mentioned Karn. "Whether pure as rain or black as sin, the tears will end this stalemate."

"It's odd how I often find you... standing." the Horseman remarked.

"Aye," agreed Eleyna. "And never where he should be."

"Without the Tree of Life, Horseman, I'm trapped here just like you. A fortunate few slipped out before the tree was lost... like Ulthane."

"Who is Ulthane?"

"He's just another maker. Has a big hammer, is all!"

"Karn!" Eleyna admonished. "He was one of the better makers, a creator of great and powerful weapons. Not a bad warrior, either."

The younger maker rolled his eyes. "He and Eleyna were good friends. When he escaped, he wanted to take her with him, but it was nigh too late for that. I feared to follow. And a good thing to, too!"

Death sighed. "And why is that?"

"Why you might still be looking for the Cauldron, if not for my courage and wit!" To this, Eleyna gave a soft groan and let her shaking head fall into her palm. Death ignored the two and pulled out the pistol, shooting at the cluster of shadow bombs above. The desired effect was instantaneous and a long stripe of a gap appeared in the doorway. "Ah, run along you two, I'll rest a bit." He turned back to Despair and remounted, catching the angry murmuring from Eleyna to Karn. With an iota of amusement in seeing the Maker cringe at the threats of something smaller than him, he held out a hand to her. She again accepted his assistance grudgingly and when she was safely astride in front of him, they were off.

"You speak to him as if he were an annoying younger sibling." he remarked.

"He should know better." she grumbled. "The gate to the Tri-Stone was shut for a reason."

"And yet you're out here." he noted.

"I can handle myself."

"If your aim with rocks is anything to go by."

"If ye think that my only fighting prowess is throwin' rocks, Horseman, then obviously ye know not much of me."

They pressed on through the valley. Immediately did he take note of the lack of color and ever-present shadow as they continued on.

"The lack of life..." she noted aloud. "It's swallowed all the world in grey. Listen..." Death did, and he noted it, too. There was not a sound save for hollow emptiness, not one sign of life. He could feel the pain and anger raging through Eleyna, especially with the way she was gripping the saddle.

Passing under an archway, they noted ahead that there was a pulsing, sac-like nest ahead. Pouring out from and swarming around it were abnormally large insects. Certainly their most noticeable feature was their long abdomens, which ended at the rather nasty-looking point of a stinger.

"Aye," began Eleyna, "Those stingers protect the nest. Like the legendary hydra, if you kill one, more will come. Distract them. I'll deal with the nest." With that, she slid again off Despair and slunk off into the shadow. Death sighed and dismissed his mount, leaping off- right into the fray. As she had hoped, they swarmed him, and he cut them. It wasn't until the Prowlers came and fully had his attention that she approached the abandoned nest.

As he pulled the scythe from the Prowler's skull, the nest rotted within itself and Eleyna made her way for the gate with a knowing glance. Death dealt with the remaining host of stingers and with a shot from his gun towards a shadow bomb, he cleared a path up a wall. Quickly taking it upward, he disappeared from sight.

As moments passed, Eleyna heard the sounds of gunshots- the sounds of which caused her to inwardly jump. Many years of silence had been ingrained into her memory. These were quickly followed by the ring of blades and several thuds and squelching noises before the Horseman came into view on the other side of the gate. Wordlessly, he pulled the lever and the gate rose, granting Eleyna passage. Instead of offering her hand for assistance, this time she reached and scuttled her way up to her appointed spot in front of Death.

Into a wide area they wandered. Before them there rose another larger stalking demon. While Eleyna was about to tell him to take evasive action, Death instead ushered Despair forward with a heel into what would have been the mount's side, all the while putting the two halves of his scythe together and then twisting it into position. The stalker noticed them as well and had begun to charge at them with a growl and then a loud roar. It was dead before the horse even took but a few steps past it. As they cleared their way around a large hill, Death took note of a crumbling building almost built entirely over the water of the enormous fjord that led out to the open sea.

"What was this place?" he asked. Eleyna was silent for a moment and then quietly shrugged.

"I cannae remember exactly." she replied. "It has been so long since I had contact with people, and since this place had been sealed off."

"Where is the path to the Drenchfort?" he asked.

"There's a path that leads southwest, just beyond this building." With that knowledge, he rushed Despair forward. The wind once again whipped past them, billowing her hair like the tether of a whip.

The path went up a steep slope that bent around and then curved into the mountain. After that, it curled back outward again and opened up to a large caldera.

"Is this it?" he asked, peering at the building that seemed to be carved into the rock wall itself and then built out from it.

"Aye." Eleyna said. She looked around the large cavity that formerly seemed to welcome people to the Drenchfort. Now the massive gap that was once covered by a bridge bid them away. After dismounting Despair again, she walked to the very edge and peered down. Seeing the fog that covered the bottom- or lack thereof, she gave a low whistle. "I can see why Eidard wanted me specifically." she turned to him, only to jump when he was- again- right behind her. "Could ye not _do _that?" she demanded.

"All the better to keep you on your toes." he commented. Her eyes narrowed and with a huff, she dug her hand into the pouch at her side.

"Stand back." she ordered shortly. When she was sure he did as he was told, she tossed the contents down into the ravine. Death had seen several tiny things glisten in the sunlight as they flew through the air and then they disappeared over the edge. With that, she held out her hand and patiently waited. He noted then that the air around them grew quiet at that moment and remained that way for quite a few moments before he felt a slight rumble beneath the earth.

From the ravine, there rapidly grew a tree so vast that it reached out of the caldera into what little sunlight there was. To say that he was surprised and mystified by what he had seen- that she had been able to grow so rapidly, without the use of time, soil, water or sunlight... such a power he in all his years had never known to exist, at least not in such potency.

"The Old One was not lying." he admitted beneath his breath. He turned to her, but found her frowning at the old fortress. Her teeth grit, he noted.

"The plants in there- they're dyin'." she noted with a strained voice. Her steady steps forward indicated to him that she was going in with him, if only to open the water ways. Realizing this, hi gave a grumbling sigh and caught her wrist. She suppressed a shudder and turned back to protest before he tugged her back to him, twisting so that she was pulled up onto his back to roost there. Instinctively, her hands reached up to his shoulders and she instinctively closed her eyes.

When Death was certain that she wouldn't slip out of her grasp, he leapt toward the tree. Eleyna, flinching, closed her eyes tight, burying her face against his shoulder. He climbed quickly, ducking and weaving about the branches and finally making a leap for the other side. He pried Eleyna's arms from his shoulder and she fell to her feet, shooting him an undignified look.

"Ye didnae have to carry me." she hissed. "I have been climbing trees since I was little."

"Yes, but this was faster." he replied.

"If that's gonna become a regular thing with ye, I would appreciate a little word of warning."

"What? Do you not like to be carried?"

"As a matter of fact, I do not, but that's not the point."

"Then what is?"

She paused.

"What?" he pressed.

"Yer... so cold." she noted. He remained silent for but a moment before letting loose a disparaging laugh.

"You are surprised, child?" he asked. "I am Death, after all, devoid of life. No heart beats within this body- no blood rushes, no air breathes."

"Aye." she replied sadly, realizing what he had just reminded him. Swallowing back the shame-filled lump in her throat, she followed hesitantly as he wandered with her into the Drenchfort.

The opening hallway of the fortress had an infestation of the stinger enemies, which Death quickly dispatched with Redemption. She took note of the graying outer atriums making up the corners of the hallway with a hurt expression and a sigh before following him.

As they took note of this larger room, there rose the prowlers. As he reached for his scythe, Eleyna knelt, spreading seeds over and then spanning her hands over them. From the ground sprang a small sapling, twisting about as it sprang upward. She touched it for but a second before the sapling parted from its roots and branches. Grinning, she pushed off of her heels, running into the fight with a wooden staff that twisted at the top. He had to admit that he did not foresee that she would be efficient in wielding such a weapon.

She was strong, that was more than certain, with the way she swung and blocked while kicking away the prowler that had launched itself at her. With another powerful swing, she knocked it so that it rolled to the side, dead. Death, who had already dealt with his kill, climbed up to the top of one of the alcoves, where he found an impotent shadow bomb. Across the way, he saw another of the carved stone globes stuck above the alcove across the way. Wasting no time, he tossed a bomb and when it had landed securely he took a shot with the pistol. The responding explosion caused the orb to fall and Eleyna used all of her strength to move it into place, gritting her teeth. With that, the door was unlatched and the two advanced down a short hallway.

The wide open central chamber of the Drenchfort was drenched in grey shadows. An immense statue of a construct held a yolk over its shoulder. Thick, sturdy chains connected this yolk to the basin-like track at its feet.

"That track leads the Tears to the outer basin- a store for the water until it was needed." Eleyna explained. "There's a switch just outside that opens up the damn of the basin, taking the Tears to the Tri-Stone."

"What must we do then?" he asked.

"Activate the aquifers in the wings first." she replied.

He nodded and followed her to the left, taking the rounding path through the doors there. In the long hall they entered, and there, Death saw what was meant by the aquifers, dug into deep trenches in the floor that descended toward a grate at the other end, where they had entered. A minimal amount of water poured out from beneath a sealed gate above.

As the two walked through the other set of doors not far from that sealed gate and proceeded down another long hallway, he noted her bearing. True, she was a tiny thing, barely coming up to his chest, but she carried herself as if she were much taller, probably as a result from being around the Makers for so long. Her eyes held no fear, her grip on her staff gave no quarter for fear. Had he possessed a more humane nature, he would have greatly approved of her bravery.

Again, they were met with a trio of prowlers.

"They donnae know when to give up, do they?" she asked coyly, shifting her staff.

"There is no time for this." he rasped, raising his hand. From the ground, there came a few coffins and from them burst a host of corpses, rabid and angry. As they distracted and dispatched the demons, he ushered Eleyna away around the corner and up the stairs.

In the next room, there were two wings off to either side of a large Maker statue. Eleyna ran to the one to the right, casting out her seeds. Holding out her hand, she grabbed onto the rapidly climbing tree, pulling herself up onto the high 'shelf' that held another of the carved globes. With a groan of exertion, she pushed it towards and over the edge. The huge shape of stone bounced slightly with a loud crack and then rolled into the cavity perfectly, causing her to smirk before she heard a loud, cracking explosion. She climbed down and approached a grate where Death had placed another one. With a look that told him his intention, he retreated to a platform that stood in the middle of the irrigation system of this particular little garden. Once he stepped on the pressure plate there, the gate lowered and she took the orb, pushing it back into the main room until it sank into the other cavity in the floor. After Death climbed his way back over, he and Eleyna proceeded up the stairs and through the door.

The winding hallway following was calm- up until they came across another stinger's nest. She again took a handful of seeds and had them sprout, this time over the wall in tangling vines until a bright purple flower sprouted and bloomed fully. The nest withered within moments while the Horseman sliced through the remaining drones. He was about to continue when she held out one arm, waved the other one- thus banishing the flower.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I have not named it yet, as I just fully developed it, but that flower drops a highly poisonous miasma that tends to decay even non-living matter. Ye would nae believe how long it took to perfect it without it harming myself."

"Biological weaponry..." he noted aloud.

"If ye want to give it a label like that, sure." she remarked.

The two opened the door, only to find themselves not alone once more. Eleyna flourished her staff, running in as Death dashed toward the other, slicing through flesh. His comrade finished bludgeoning her foe before she picked up a shadow bomb from the plant growing in the corner and lobbing it at the cluster of Corruption crystals guarding the lever. When she moved to pull the lever, he stopped her when he saw Corruption's black matter covering the floor. Instead, he made his way across it and pulled the lever.

In the aquifer, a gate rose, releasing a powerful surge of water. Eleyna was beaming as she approached the edge and viewed the rushing water. To her delight, there was greenery that she could see again and she relished also in the warm sunlight now filtering in over her face. With a spirited laugh, she jumped in- to the Horseman's puzzlement. When she surfaced, she gazed back up at him. "Come on then, assuming ye don't want to take the long way back." she beckoned. Death rolled his eyes and jumped in. The water was cool, pure, refreshing even, and the current's strength carried them back effortlessly. The sudden drop as they came back into the previous long hall was a but of a thrill, at least for her, but she pulled herself out of the water with the aid of a long-dangling vine and he climbed out after her.

The unlikely duo returned to the main chamber in time to see the water gush from the aquifer into the basin track. Due to the imbalance of having one side filled, the basin track lowered and tilted, causing water to flood into the lower level of the chamber, filling it. Death pointed out a lower tunnel. When she explained that she did not know where that went, he contemplated.

"Only one way to find out, then." he sighed before jumping in, followed closely by her.

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><p><strong>Alrighty, I have another chapter down. How did you guys like the interaction between Eleyna and Death? I hope I'm still doing alright in staying true to his character. Again, I'm sorry about the lateness of this chapter. I'll have the next chapter up sooner, I promise.<strong>


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